Well, memories are notoriously fallible, and this one was from when I was practically a toddler. I didn't credit it as more than a dream for many years, until my mom told me what she told me. It's as non-fictional as I can tell it.

Speaking of which... there's an aspect of the story that I hesitate to tell, because I don't want to seem like I'm embellishing to make it more scary. But, in the spirit of perhaps creeping you out even more... I mentioned the yellow, plastic bag with the Bic label that the hand tried to offer me, the one that had contained pens. I'm not actually sure that bag had been for pens, or that it was empty. Bic also sells razors, and my dad bought that brand. The possibility has crossed my mind that the hand was trying offer 3yo me a bag of razor blades.